On the Go

"Men do not die from overwork. They die from dissipation and worry."

-Charles Evans Hughes

Too many days without a post, again. It's been a busy time.

On Saturday morning we flew out of KELM on a perfect fall day, only to enter some really poor weather as we crossed into North Carolina. How poor? We were forced to fly a missed approach at Stanly County Airport after we broke out of the soup facing an impossibly steep descent to land, then barely broke out at minimums over in Concord, NC to land and then dash into the FBO ahead of the deluge. Avgas cost $2 a gallon more there, so an expensive divert.

From there we had to pick through a line of thunderstorms in south Georgia to get to Perry, squeezing through a sucker hole that was closing by the second as we approached it, towering cumulus on either side. By the time I plopped down on the porch at Wyldswood, I was completely exhausted.

Then the rain started in the evening, and except for a brief break on Sunday didn't let up until Tuesday night.

On Monday I thought I had an in-person hearing in PC, so was up at 5:30 a.m. to drive in darkness and torrential rain to the Bay County Courthouse, only to find out when I got there that the hearing was by Zoom. That's on me. I used the windshield time going home to think through my outline for oral argument in the First DCA the following day.

Tuesday morning was spent in preparation for the argument in Tallahassee. Peg and I drove over together, and she got to see the garish and incredibly expensive edifice that is the First DCA Courthouse. As always, it was quiet as a tomb there, with just us, the three judges there to hear arguments, and some security and courthouse staff. Every time I've been there, including two trips as a finalist for the bench there, it's been a ghost town. Looking back on all that, I thank god for unanswered prayers.

The argument went fine, although I was visibly nervous and out of practice. Too much time as a hermit over the last six years. One of my oldest and best friends was on the other side, which made it more fun than it would have been otherwise. The poking back and forth was pretty good natured, overall.

Afterward Peg and I stopped for a little Lebanese tapas and wine at a wonderful strip mall restaurant we've visited before, then on to PC. Dio was here when we arrived, mostly finished with his project of redecorating the condo to suit P's tastes. We took him to Little Village for fish tacos and a little more wine, then visiting in front of the boob tube until we gave up and went to sleep. It was all downright domestic.

Today there have been a couple in-person meetings in matters that really needed that, then a Kiwanis meeting in the midst of old, familiar friends. And when I say old, I mean old--I joined that club in 1998, and we're all getting up there.

Meanwhile in the Gulf, something's brewing.

The latest forecast says at least a Cat 2, likely making landfall around Pensacola the day before the eighth anniversary of Hurricane Michael. We'll be back at the farm by then. Everyone I talk to around town seems to have a case of PTSD aggravated by the confluence of this storm and that anniversary. It'll be what it'll be.